


Falling in Love at a Coffee Shop

by orphan_account



Category: The Bright Sessions (Podcast)
Genre: Anxiety, Banter, Coffee Shops, F/F, Fluff, Getting Together, Kissing, a few implications of sam's parents' deaths, also the anxiety isn't a main focus but i tagged it bc sam's anxiety is discussed, but nothing explicit, first half is not much dialogue, i am a wildly consistent person i promise, oh just a warning there are, oh there is also a? very brief mention of alcohol, second half is dialogue heavy, this is basically just fluffy and coffee, to a debilitating degree
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-26
Updated: 2017-07-26
Packaged: 2018-12-07 02:14:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11613798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: "Sam?""Hm?""I hate coffee.""...Noted."OR, "tuesday, coffee with sam" - the episode title that started it all





	Falling in Love at a Coffee Shop

**Author's Note:**

> ... I don't know what this is. I just really want there to be more Sam/Chloe in this ao3. The title is from the Landon Pigg song, 'Falling in Love at a Coffee Shop.' You should give it a listen if you want, it's very soft and sweet. Anyway, I hope you enjoy!

 

 

The shop is awfully quiet, today. Normally, it’s buzzing with life, with clanging silverware and cheerful conversations; that’s always been something Chloe’s loved about it until… well, until recently. Now, she can appreciate a subtle morning like this. It’s not quite raining outside, but the sky looks sad. It’s such a lovely color, though, so she snaps a quick photograph on her phone so that later, she can try to paint it. An imitation of a beautiful sky and a beautiful sky itself don’t quite give one the same feeling, but she always likes to try.

 

Once her order of hot chocolate arrives in a colorful mug, hot to the touch, she sets her phone down on the table and looks around as she waits for it to cool, just a little. Chloe’s always loved people-watching, ever since she was a little girl. She always found it so fascinating to just observe others, see what they were like when they had no one to prove themselves to. And her new… ability made it infinitely more interesting. Not that she intentionally read their thoughts, but when someone was too close, it wasn’t like she could help it.

 

As one would expect considering the significant decrease in volume today, there’s barely anyone there. A few friends with groggy eyes and sleepover-hair grabbing breakfast, a man focusing half of his attention on eating waffles and the other half on not getting syrup on the book he's reading, and a girl on her laptop.

 

Chloe settles in on her, just a little, for reasons she can't fathom, because the girl on her laptop really doesn't stand out more than any of the rest of them. But Chloe can't stop looking. She really doesn’t mean to stare, she just can’t help but wonder. The girl’s far enough away that all Chloe can hear is her hum of nervous energy, but no thoughts. She’s very pretty, but pretty but in a down-played sort of way. Like she might be easy to miss, if Chloe wasn’t looking around. All her clothes are faded colors and her hair sort of falls in front of her face, almost- but not quite- hiding the guarded half-smile found there. Chloe wonders what she’s working on. Is she a writer? She certainly looks the part. Chloe really wants to sketch her, but manages to keep herself from pulling out her phone again. Somehow, she doubts that would be appropriate at this stage in their non-existent relationship.

 

Eventually, she turns away, wondering what Probably A Writer Girl’s name might be, and her eyes lands straight on the barista who’d made her drink, a guy somewhere in his twenties with long hair and a friendly demeanor. Chris.

 

So friendly, in fact, that before Chloe was a regular, she could have sworn that all the smiles and hearts drawn on her cup (whenever she got something to go) were an attempt at flirting, and she'd fretted about how to let him down easy. It took a while to catch on that that was just what he was like. With everyone, not just her. Not in menacing way, just in a way that takes a while to understand. All laughter and "how are yous?" and occasional drinks on the house, just because he's feeling generous. He never seems to expect anything in return, other than maybe friendship, and Chloe's glad. Friendship, she can do. A romantic relationship with someone who can't possibly understand her world right now? Not so much. Now, catching her in the act of staring at one of his patrons, Chris simply winks at her and tilts his head in the girl’s direction. _You should go talk to her,_ Chloe hears him think, and she wants to laugh, because she’s pretty sure his thoughts are just things he would say if they were actually talking. He seems like a very open person.

 

The idea is tempting, it really is. But as much as she wants to, Chloe stops herself. She’s not usually this careful a person, but frankly, the last thing she needs right now is to be involved. Especially not with someone who can never fully know her. Dr. Bright says it’s okay to tell people about her ability in certain circumstances (and she’s thinking she’s going to tell Frank soon, because if ‘best friend’ doesn’t count as an important relationship, then she’s not sure what does) but she doubts that “potential date” or “fellow coffee shop go-er” are quite what she had in mind. So she shakes her head at Chris and smiles, to end their silent conversation, and he seems to get the point because he smiles back and raises his hands in mock surrender before getting back to work.

 

Chloe sneaks once last look at the girl before she stands up and barely contains a snort when she sees the amount of whip cream piled onto her drink. Yeah, she’s pretty sure she couldn’t date someone who had that much tolerance for sugar, anyway.

 

She leaves with a final nod and grin at Chris, and inserts her headphones as she’s walking out the door so as to have some quiet a little while longer. She really doesn’t want to be influenced by other people’s moods or thoughts or opinions right now. She has a sky to paint.

 

*

 

The first time they talk, it’s over the phone. Dr. Bright gave both of them each other’s numbers, but Chloe gets around to calling before Sam gets the chance to. Or rather, before she gathers  up the courage to. Sam’s honestly grateful; she’s not sure it ever would have happened, otherwise.

 

"Hey, is this Sam?" Chloe's voice cracks under the influence of her phone's speaker, and Sam's heart flips inside of her chest. This is the call she's been waiting for-  _hoping_ for, and she knows who it is as soon as she answers, somehow. It's not like anyone else calls her.

 

"Yeah! Hi! Uh, Chloe, right?"

 

The conversation doesn’t last too long. They  introduce themselves, laugh awkwardly about how weird it all is. Sam wants to ask if Chloe can hear her, _really_ hear her, from over the phone- Dr. Bright had explained her ability, a little, in spite of patient confidentiality- but she thinks better of it. After all, she doesn’t want to come off as being rude. In the end, they agree that the things they want to talk about our probably conversations best to be had in person. They figure out a time they’re both available, a couple of days from now, and Chloe suggests a coffee shop she knows and Sam’s been there once before and she remembers liking it so it’s all settled. Sam ignores the pit of… something that’s weighing down her stomach. Probably just nerves. After all, she’s not exactly the most extroverted person. But Chloe seems nice.

 

Really, really nice.

 

It’s not a date. Sam knows that. They’ve never even _met,_ and she doesn’t know, yet, if they’ll even be friends.

 

She hopes they will, though.

 

Chloe’s already sitting down at a table by the time that Sam gets there, but she doesn’t have a drink, yet. Sam takes a moment to look at her before she approaches; she knows it's her because she's wearing the Van Gogh shirt that she said she would be. She's, like, intimidatingly pretty in a very artistic way. Dark, curly hair that cascades in front of her face. Traces of paint on her hands. Sam's trying not to freak out, just a little bit.

 

Sam feels a twinge of guilt for keeping her waiting, but it’s not as though she’d been able to drive; if she could have walked any faster, she would have. Luckily, the shop isn’t too far from her apartment, so the walk was only ten minutes or so, and they’d agreed to be here at twelve-ish. It was only just now a couple of minutes past, so Chloe couldn’t have been waiting too long. They smile and greet each other and go up to the counter together to order (Chloe gets something that Sam’s not even sure is coffee, while Sam piles her drink with sugar), then head back to the table.

 

They talk for what must be at least fifteen minutes or so, the buzz of other patrons’ conversations almost sort of… calming in the background. Ambient noise. And once Chloe explains why she’s recording them, the whole conversation is just sort of… easy. As easy any conversation’s ever been for Sam, any way. Even before her parents- well, even before _that,_ she’d always been kind of shy. Tripping over her words, never knowing what to say. But now, even though she probably still sounds ridiculous, Sam finds that she doesn’t care that much. Particularly because Chloe admits that apparently, her ability can make conversation hard for her, too. In a different way, but still. There’s less pressure.

 

She can just talk. Be herself.  And listen. And Chloe likes to hear her say things, likes getting to know her, from what she can tell.

 

It’s nice to talk about Dr. Bright with someone. Sam’s never had anyone to tell that she has a therapist, much less to talk about how she feels about her therapist. And there Chloe is, in pretty much the exact same boat.

 

But even though it’s nice and easy and Sam wishes things could be like this all the time, she still can’t help but feel a little afraid, when she starts talking about her own ability. She feels like she should be whispering, like some secret government agent is hiding in plain sight, waiting to hear her say something suspect. But mostly, it’s just nice to not have to hide who she is from someone for a change.. And it’s honestly refreshing that Chloe just _knows_ what she’s thinking, without her having to stutter it all out. She’d been worried, before, about what it might feel like. She thought maybe it would hurt, like someone was digging around in her brain, invasive, but that's not what it's like at all. She can't even feel it.

 

Not everything they talk about is pleasant, of course- that Damien guy really does seem like a piece of work, and Sam’s planning on avoiding him at all costs. And admitting that, for all intents and purposes, she's had no social life for ten odd years isn’t exactly dignifying. But even the bad stuff is just so simple. Sam feels so comfortable around Chloe.

 

In the end, they leave because Chloe’s getting a pretty bad headache (and Sam chooses _not_ to tell her that she actually really enjoys math, although now that she’s thinking it, she probably knows anyways) and walk half of the way home together before they have to separate.

 

"This was fun," Sam tries, once they're at the point in their respective paths home where they go different ways. She really doesn't want to leave yet, she really doesn't want it to be over, but what she can't think of anything else that would keep them from diverging from each other.

 

"It really was. We should totally talk again on the phone. Plan our next hang-out."

 

Sam mutters a quiet agreement and then Chloe's gone.

 

Sam hopes Chloe wasn't just humoring her; she hopes it’s not the last time they hang out. She doesn’t think it will be; it seemed like they really hit it off. Like they maybe… have a lot in common?

 

And, really, that doesn’t make much sense, does it? Because Sam and Chloe couldn’t be more polarizingly _different_ if they tried. Chloe isn’t your typical name-brand fashionista, but she clearly doesn’t slack off in the self-expression department, either. She is an artist, after all; all bright colors and geometric patterns and dangling jewelry. Sam, on the other hand, tends to favor burying herself in baggy sweaters and cuffed, holey jeans. She’s never given it much thought, but- but, maybe she’s… hiding. From the world. She’s certainly gotten good at that.

 

Good enough that now, whenever it’s actually necessary to interact with another human, her half of the conversation mostly consists of “ums” and stuttery, half-finished sentences and awkwardly long pauses. Even in Dr. Bright’s office, it took Sam a while to really say anything of value, though. To fill the room with something more than mindless, nervous chatter. Chloe, though- Chloe doesn’t seem to know when to _stop_ talking. And… maybe if it was anyone else, it would come off as annoying and self-centered, but because it’s _Chloe,_ the most sincerely kind-hearted person Sam has ever met, it’s- well. It’s actually kind of endearing?

 

Because Chloe’s never trying to interrupt or dominate the conversation- she just has so many thoughts bursting in her mind, some of them hers and some of them not, but all of them begging to be verbalized. And that’s the other thing right? Their abilities are- well, they’re different from each other, but that’s not all. It’s like their… inversed, in a way. On a weird axis that probably doesn’t make sense anywhere but Sam’s head. But Chloe’s power (and god, doesn’t that make it sound like some coming of age, superhero action flick) is, as far as Sam can tell, almost completely internal, everyone around her flooding her mind just by thinking too close to her. And it’s made her… open. Empathetic. Trusting, even. Maybe it has something to do with the fact that this is all really new for Chloe. Exciting, once it stopped being quite so scary. Overwhelming, sure, but still new enough that the novelty hasn’t worn off. Maybe it never will. Sam honestly hopes for her friend’s sake that it doesn’t. Because she, she’s been dealing with this for years now. A decade, at least. And it’s so… intrusive. Not just on her own life, but to the world. Her body quite literally inserts itself into a different time and place.

 

Yeah. It definitely doesn’t make sense. But even though they’re different, even though there’s _no way_ Chloe feels the same thing, Sam can’t help but feel a sort of connection with the other girl. Like they’re… like they’re kindred spirits. Or something.

 

And maybe she can justify that. After all, they both know what it’s like to live a sort of double life. At least a little. But there’s this other thing, too. Something that twists in Sam’s stomach whenever she hears Chloe’s hearty, fairy-dust laugh. It’s… it’s…

 

*

 

“Nice,” Chloe comments when she sees Sam’s mocha, which is about ten percent coffee and ninety percent sugar. She hasn’t really touched it, yet, and Chloe wonders why. In the short time they’ve known each other, Chloe’s been quick to realize that it’s not like Sam to avoid anything sweet. One day, once they’re closer (and _god_ , she hopes they do get closer), Chloe’s going to cook an actual meal for her friend, because right now she’s pretty sure the girl subsists off of microwave dinners and gas station candy. Which is kind of cute, but. Still.

  
Chloe’s pulls out her cheap white headphones from her ears, just in time to hear Sam think:

 

_Shit._

 

And then proceed to go through nine different facial expressions in the span of five seconds. Chloe laughs but doesn’t ask her about it, figuring her friend was probably just thinking about something embarrassing and got startled by Chloe’s mind-reading presence. Maybe once they're close enough for Chloe to bring over lasagna, they'll be close enough for Chloe to tease Sam about her embarrassing thoughts, too. Today, though, she's just going to stick to the basics. “I don’t think I can do anything stronger than herbal tea."

 

 _Is something wrong?_ Sam asks, but as soon as Chloe answers, she realizes Sam didn’t actually ask, just thought it and was probably about to ask. Oh, well. Judging by Sam’s smile, she doesn’t seem to mind the pre-emptive interruption too much.

 

“Just had a long day. And a kind of intense session with Dr. Bright.” Chloe waits, this time, while Sam sips her drink, for the words to come, because even though she knows Sam doesn’t mind, Chloe has a feeling that she’s probably gotten pretty used to being spoken over. Chloe doesn’t want their relationship to be like that. One-sided, one person dominating while the other person shrinks. She doesn’t think it has been, so far. She hopes it hasn’t been.

 

She really likes Sam.

 

“Intense?” Sam asks after a moment. “Do you wanna talk about it?”

 

“I don’t know, it’s just… I can tell she’s frustrated with me, whenever I listen in on her thoughts, because it breaches some kind of therapist code, but, like? Aren’t we kind of beyond that point, anyway? And it’s not like I’m trying to invade her privacy, I just- when people are vulnerable, it’s easier to slip in their mind, especially when there’s not much physical proximity between me and them. And we were talking about something kind of emotional for her, apparently and I just- I don’t want to feel like my therapist hates me,” Chloe sighs finally, slumping a little in her chair to catch her breath. Sam smiles at her.

 

“Feel better?”

 

“A little. Hold on, I need tea,” Chloe decides, and Sam smiles a little wider. It does something odd and twisty and not altogether unpleasant to Chloe’s stomach.

 

She sighs again once she orders, waiting for her cup at the end of the counter. She glances back at Sam. This all feels a little like unfamiliar territory. Are they on a date? Are they getting to know one another? From the way Sam’s mentioned Dr. Bright’s brother a couple of times, in passing, it seemed like… but then, it also seems…

 

“Chloe?” an unfamiliar barista asks, and she finds herself wondering where Chris is. She says thank you and pays, before turning back around to see Sam smiling at her phone. God, that smile.

 

She’s still not sure what this is, but she knows what she wants it to be. It doesn't feel dangerous, the way she thought it would, to have these kinds of feelings for someone. Maybe it's because Sam's atypical, too. So she gets it. And that makes sense, right? Before, she thought she couldn't be in a relationship right now because no one would understand. But here's someone who she really likes who... seems to understand.

 

She slides into the chair next to Sam instead of across from her, this time, finding that she just likes being close to her. Sam, for her all her anxiety, has a warm, kind presence surrounding her. The kind that’s easy to be taken in by.

 

“She doesn’t hate you, for the record,” Chloe hears Sam say, and she does a little mental high-five at the fact that she could recognize the difference between a thought and actual verbalization, for once.

 

“Hm?”

 

“Dr. Bright. She doesn’t hate you, I promise. You should hear the way she talks about you. She really admires you.”

 

“Oh, I- I know she doesn’t. But thanks.”

 

“I figured you probably did,” Sam plays (rather nervously, Chloe notices) with the hem of her sweater sleeve. “It’s just, uh. I sometimes get worried that I’m annoying people I like, or that they’re just pretending to like me, so I just- I wanted you to know-” Sam stops, seeming unsure of how to continue. Chloe gets the sense that talking about her mental health issues with someone she hasn’t spent more than two hours total with is a big deal for Sam. She appreciates the gesture, and lightly places her hand over Sam’s- the one that’s not moving, but rather resting on the table- to show it.

 

“Hey, thank you. She doesn’t hate you either, you know. She seems pretty fond, actually. And I totally get why,” Chloe laughs, but not a mean laugh. It makes Sam blush.

 

“That’s… that’s good to hear.”

 

“I don’t hate you, either, you know.”

 

“That’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me,” Sam says with a deadpan expression, and five seconds later, Chloe can literally hear her panicking that it's too far, that they aren't close enough for that kind of banter yet, but before she can open her mouth to apologize, Chloe laughs bright and loud.

 

 _Like fairy-dust_ , she hears but she’s pretty sure Sam didn’t say it out loud. Once Chloe’s done laughing, it gets quiet again. Well, as quiet as a room can be when it’s filled with people. Still. Their spot, their little corner of the world, or at least, this coffee shop, is quiet again. Serious but not sad. A little hopeful, maybe.

 

“I don’t hate you, also,” Sam adds and that upturns the corners of Chloe’s lips because god, for such a shy person, she sure does now how to squeeze a girl’s heart and flip her stomach into knots. Their hands are still touching and Chloe finds that when she turns her head to the right, just an inch or so, they’re facing each other. Sam’s looking down, a little, down at her lips, and Chloe’s suddenly pretty sure that if this isn’t a date, the next one will be.

 

Sam surprises both of them a little when she leans in first, but she waits, thinking. Hesitating. Chloe knows why, can hear the surge of thoughts in her head, but she lets Sam breathe a minute. Figure out how she wants to word it. “Is this okay?” is what Sam finally settles on.

 

Chloe just nods, though, from the way her jaw already hurts, she thinks she’s probably smiling quite a bit as well. “Very okay.”

 

As soon as their lips touch, everything goes quiet. For real this time. Everyone’s thoughts in the background fade away, and though Chloe can still kind of hear Sam if she really focuses in, she finds herself just letting it be what it is: soft, slow. Gentle.

 

Nice. Really, really nice.

 

Eventually, though, craning her neck at the angle they’re at starts to hurt. Luckily, Sam seems to agree, because they pull away at the same time before smiling at each other. Sam’s thumb brushes over Chloe’s cheek, soft, and yeah, Chloe’s jaw is starting to ache, she’s so happy. 

 

By the time they leave (an hour or so later) holding hands, Chloe’s thinking: yeah, it was probably a date.

 

*

 

It’s definitely a date, this time. Sam is pretty sure she makes that obvious when she calls Chloe and, without so much saying hello or even _hey this is Sam_ , she just does it. Asks her.

 

“Do you want to go on a date with me?” she asks, trying desperately not to sound like she’s rehearsed those words several times, even though she has. Knowing for a fact that Chloe likes her doesn’t make her any less nervous, but it does make her a different kind of nervous than usual. Instead of something weighing her down, like an anchor, it’s… fluttery. Pleasant.

 

Freeing.

 

“I’m sorry, who is this?” Chloe responds, and Sam rolls her eyes, because she _knows_ Chloe recognizes her voice.

 

“Me. Sam.”

 

“Oh, _Sam_ ,” Chloe overexaggerates her name, and Sam can practically see the grin that must be plastered to her face. “I didn’t recognize your voice, you were being so forward!”

 

“Ha, very funny,” Sam replies sarcastically, but the venom just isn’t there. No matter how hard Chloe tries (and she seems to really like trying, considering the last couple of text threads they’ve had where Chloe bombarded her with ancient and unironic memes found buried in the depths of Facebook), Sam just can’t stay annoyed at Chloe. Whenever she does get annoyed, even a little bit, it always melts into something warmer and sweeter inside of her chest. “Really,” she adds after a moment, starting to get nervous. “Do you want to? ‘Cause if you don’t that’s, that’s oka-”

 

“Sam. I was just kidding. I really, really want that. But... are you sure? 'Cause the way you talked about that Mark guy-"

 

"Mark is... I don't know. He doesn't like me that way. I know that for a fact, now. I can't say that I don't have any feelings for him, but my feelings for you, are, well- they're really strong. I really want this. As long as you do."

 

The conversation is silent for a moment. Sam tries to ignore the pit in her stomach, but she can't. Mere moments ago, she'd been so confident, but now, she's unsure. And terrified that Chloe will say no. Maybe admitting to having feelings, however small, for someone else wasn't the best idea. But she wants to be honest with Chloe. It seems like so many relationships are built on lies and Sam doesn't want that. Not for them.

 

And she meant what she said, too. No matter what she feels for Mark, that's never happening. And she's pretty sure she doesn't want it to. Not as long as Chloe's around.

 

"Okay," Chloe answers finally. "I mean yes, I still- I want to go on a date with you."

 

Sam hopes her sigh of relief isn't the most obvious thing anyone's ever heard, but knowing her luck, she doubts it.

 

"I do still feel kind of left out, though," Chloe adds, a different edge to her voice. More... playful, maybe?

 

“What do you mean?” Sam asked, scrambling to think of anything she could have done wrong. She doesn't think this is still about the Mark thing. But, despite how brief their knowing each other has been, Sam has grown quickly and intensely attached to the other girl. So whenever she seems even a little sad, Sam panics. Tries to think of a way to make it better.

 

“Well, I kind of wanted to ask you out, but you beat me to it.”

 

Sam stops panicking. Shuts her eyes really tight. Thanks every star that would be in the sky, were it not ten in the morning. She scratches the back of her neck with the hand that’s not holding her cellphone, and answers. “Well, uh, I guess you still could?”

 

Chloe laughs. “What, we’re mutually asking each other out?”

 

Sam shrugs, even though Chloe can’t see it, as Darwin curls up next to her on the couch. “Why not?” There’s a pause, too long to be natural. Then, dramatically (and probably with a hand thrown over her heart, very Shakesperian-esque),

 

“Samantha Eleanor Barnes, on this humble, beautiful day that is second only to your radiance, I implore you, please-”

 

“Mine definitely didn’t take this long-”

 

“Do me the honor of going out on the town with me. We’ll paint this city red, not with blood but with wine, we’ll dance to the beat of our hearts joined as one-”

 

“Or we could just get coffee? Maybe share a pastry?”

 

“I’m trying to be romantic, Sam. You’re ruining it.”

 

Sam giggles. “I’m very sorry, my lady. As you were saying?”

 

“I’ll provide the horse drawn carriage, and we’ll stay out late enough to see the sun rise…”

 

 

 

In the end, they decide that coffee and a pastry would be less expensive (and much easier to find) than a horse-drawn carriage, so they go to their usual spot. It's a busy day, so Sam's a little worried that it might be overwhelming for Chloe, but she seems fine, so far.

 

"I promise one day we’ll meet up somewhere that isn’t this coffee shop,” Sam laughs and Chloe smiles before pulling out the chair for her. Sam can’t decide whether to raise her eyebrows or blush, so she settles for:

 

“Why, thank you,” instead.

 

“You don’t have to say that, you know. I can always hear you appreciating me,” Chloe grins and Sam wants to laugh, a little, but she stops herself, because she has something important to say. It might not be a big deal to Chloe, but it is to her.

 

“Well, I’m always going to say thank you. It’s not about whether you can hear it in my head or not,” Sam continues before Chloe can argue, as it’s clear she wants to by the way she opens her mouth. “It’s the principle of the thing. It takes effort for you to pull out my chair for me-”

 

“Not that much-”

 

“But it doesn’t take any effort for me to think. I do, however, expend a lot of energy whenever I try to talk. Look, I just want you to know that I appreciate you.” After a moment of looking like she might still try to argue, Chloe caves and smiles. A soft, unusually shy smile for her, but still a distinctly _Chloe Turner_ smile.

 

“I appreciate you, also.” There’s a beat that always follows pure, genuine declarations like that, and then, to break it up because it’s a tiny bit awkward, Chloe says, “So, you mentioned pastries?”

 

“Well, I do have a little bit of a sweet tooth.”

 

Chloe rolls her eyes. “A little? Your drinks always contain at least ten times the sugar of mine.”

 

“I can’t help it! I never had anyone teach me how to cook, I grew up on frozen burritos and ice cream sandwiches,” Sam defends herself. Chloe’s eyes visibly widen a little, almost like they’re sad, but Sam can’t figure out- oh. Shit. Parents. “It’s not a big deal. That no one taught me to cook, I mean.”

 

“Still, I- I’m sorry, Sam. What happened must have been really awful for you.”

 

“I- can we talk about something else?” Sam asks. It’s not that she doesn’t appreciate Chloe’s concern; she really, really does. She’s never really had anyone to talk about this stuff with, except for Dr. Bright, and it’s… something she might want to do. In the future. But not right now. Not on their first date. First dates are supposed to be happy, and light, and fun. From what she understands, anyway. She definitely shouldn't cry, at any rate, and she's pretty sure that's what's going to happen if they continue down this particular road.

 

“Yeah, of course,” Chloe answers quickly, but neither of them move to change the subject, probably because neither of them can think of a subject to change to. Finally, out of nowhere, Chloe seems to come up with something.

 

“Sam?”

 

“Hm?”

 

“I hate coffee.”

 

“...Noted.”

 

Chloe laughs, her bright fairy-laugh, so infectious that Sam can’t not join in. She loves Chloe's laugh; it's so heartfelt and genuine and loud. No one could ever accuse her of faking. “That’s all you have to say?”

 

“What am I supposed to say? You’re the one who suggested this place, the first time,” Sam reminds her. “I’d only ever been here once and-”

 

Sam's not sure _what_ , exactly but something happens to Chloe's face at that. Realization, maybe? Something's dawning on her. Her eyebrows are all drawn up, her eyes themselves wide and confused, her mouth slightly open. It's kind of an adorable expression, but Sam's also a little concerned, for a moment.

 

“Oh my god,” Chloe gasps.

 

“What’s wrong?” Sam asks quickly, worried. Her experience with people exclaiming things usually involves faces twisted up in horror, some terrible news looming just ahead of them. But Chloe doesn’t look scared or worried or in danger or pain, she just looks… surprised.

 

“I remember you.”

 

“Well, I’d certainly hope so,” Sam tries for a bit of humor, still not really understanding what’s going on.

 

“No, I mean- you said you’ve been here once before, right?”

 

Sam nods, thinking back to the day. “Yeah, like, a month and a half ago.”

 

“I saw you. I completely forgot, but I saw you that day.” Sam’s eyes widen, but she’s not angry or anything, that’s just… wow. That’s a lot to process.

 

“So we could have known each other a lot sooner?”

 

“Theoretically.”

 

“What’d you think of me? When you saw me, I mean.”

 

Chloe looks a little embarrassed, the way Sam sometimes does whenever they’re teasing each other. She thinks maybe Chloe is more used to the quippy one-liners than she is, but she’s still susceptible to blushing on occasion. Sam wonders if she’s pushed a boundary, but she trusts Chloe to tell her if she has. Which is a weird feeling, now that she thinks about it. To trust someone so much that she doesn’t worry about saying the wrong thing. That’s very, very new.

 

Luckily, though she may be embarrassed, Chloe’s not embarrassed enough to not answer. Sam’s glad, because though she likes Chloe’s ability, sometimes it can… get a little overwhelming, to know that someone can read her thoughts and she can’t do the same. Not because she particularly wants to (because honestly, she doesn’t know how Chloe deals with that, time travel is bad enough but that's not _all the time_ ) but because she’s afraid that Chloe’s going to get sick of knowing more about Sam and her thought process than the other way around. So, as much as she was teasing, she also really, really wants to know.

 

“Um, well I thought that you were pretty,” she starts and _Sam_ blushes at that, “and that I’d like to sketch you, but I thought that would be creepy. And I thought you were maybe a writer? Because of your laptop. And I was appropriately appalled at whatever you were drinking,” she finishes, eyes a little far off as though she’s seeing the moment just to the left of her head.

 

“I guess we’ve come a long way,” Sam grins, and Chloe returns the look.

 

“Yeah, we both actually know we’re on a date and everything!”

 

Sam laughs, looking away, but the silly mood doesn’t last for long, because she’s feeling something, something strong.

 

“I-” Sam tries, but she can’t quite get the words out. _I really like getting to know you_ , she finds it easier to think. It’s not all she wants to express; she wants to say how much she cares, how much she finally feels she belongs, how much she owes to Chloe, how glad she is they found each other- but Chloe seems to get the point. She places her hand over Sam’s, where it rests on the table, and is the one who leans in this time. The kiss only lasts a moment, but it’s a very nice moment.

 

“I really like getting to know you, also.” A beat. “But your breath tastes like coffee, so I’m going to have to go get my hot chocolate, now,” Chloe says and again, they’re laughing and the moment is so easy and light and beautiful, Sam wants to stay in it forever. Instead, she smirks.

 

“Fair enough, my lady."

 

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to lmk what you thought! You can find me @thecolormagicmakes on tumblr. Thanks for reading! Much love!


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